


The Fire Inside

by AvataroftheVast



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Canon Asexual Character, Comfort, Desolation!Martin, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, canon-typical lonely, possible near death??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 11:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18828133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvataroftheVast/pseuds/AvataroftheVast
Summary: Without being able to touch, Martin is unsure how much mileage is left in their relationship.





	The Fire Inside

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written as a sequel to two other desolation!martin stories by @somuchbetterthanthat and @statementends on tumblr.

[Original stories can be found [here](https://somuchbetterthanthat.tumblr.com/post/184552279602/so-statementends-talked-about-desolationmartin) and [here](https://statementends.tumblr.com/post/184570016476/so-i-heard-theres-this-hugjonsims2k19-thing-going)]

 

Martin packed the last of his things into his bag and prepared to leave the archives. He’d managed to convince Jon to leave work and go home before it was completely dark, so he was anticipating some nice rest of his own. Granted, it was the middle of summer, so leaving before dark wasn’t really saying much.

Martin loved the summer. The heat comforted him and made him feel at home; whether it was the humid, sweltering heat that wrapped him in a cozy blanket, or the searing, burning heat of a bright summer day, filling him with life, and making him feel like a forest fire.

Martin passed the main store room, full of boxes upon boxes of statements, and he felt his hand tingle with the rage he wanted to inflict upon them. But he kept his gloves on. He turned and walked away.

Maybe he would start a forest fire some time, Martin thought.

Martin stepped out of the institute doors, and paused to take a deep breath. The sky was gray and dark. It was a sweltering heat kind of day. He started to take a step, but froze suddenly with a jolt. To his right, standing maybe ten feet from the institute doors was a man that he almost hadn’t seen at all. He was tall, middle-aged, and very pale, wearing a button down shirt and tie. He seemed to stand so very apart from everything. There was something very wrong about this man.

“Who are you?” Martin snapped, “and what are you doing here?” The man’s voice was warm and friendly as he spoke.

“My, you seem defensive. The name’s Peter, and I’m just waiting for my husband to get off from work.” Martin was a loss for words.

“Your… husband?”

“That’s right.”

“Who… who would that be?” Martin asked with genuine curiosity. He thought he knew the institute staff fairly well - well, at least he did before his transformation - and he wasn’t aware of any of the male staff who had a husband. The man named Peter clicked his tongue.

“I’ve really said too much already. He’s really a very private man -” _Makes sense then, I suppose,_ Martin thought, “- and prefers to keep his domestic life separate from work. I figured I might as well be honest with you about it, though, since you seemed so ready to…” Peter smirked. “Light me up.”

Martin opened his mouth to respond, but the stranger kept talking. “You know, it really is amusing how much he compartmentalizes. Always he tries to come off so serious and composed, but outside of his professional life, he’s an entirely different person. Hah, if anyone here knew what he did in bed on our wedding night, I don’t think they’d be able to look him in the eyes ever again! Both of use needed a recovery period for that one.” Martin blushed furiously.

“Right. Well. I’ll leave you to wait for him then. I’ll just… goodbye.” The man gave Martin a warm smile as he hurried off.

“Have a good night, Martin!”

Martin was so busy pushing down second-hand embarrassment that it never even occurred to him that he hadn’t given Peter his name. But as he shuffled down the sidewalk, a small, sick feeling began building in his stomach; one that made him feel…. surprisingly cold. And before long, the feeling had settled over him like a cloud.

* * *

 Martin stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, unable to sleep.

Intimacy.

He hadn’t really given it proper thought until his conversation with the strange man outside the institute. He and Jon would never be able to have a proper intimate relationship. That wasn’t fair to Jon, was it? To keep him in a sexless relationship? He had hardly even been able to hug him. Martin felt his heart sink, closer to that cold pit forming in his stomach. Would anyone want to be with him?

Martin supposed it would be best to just let Jon go; let him go on with his life, and Martin would go on with his.

Alone.

Martin rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He didn’t see the slight mist that seeped under his bedroom door. At the very least, he thought, he could still do his best to protect Jon. Yes, he could at least do that, and he intended to for as long as they both lived; for the lifetime of an avatar.

* * *

Martin sat in an empty office room, slouched over on a desk and fiddling with a pencil. He was pointedly giving it all his attention, watching how the wood seared slightly, even through his gloves.

Jon walked past the open door.

“Morning.”

“Hi,” Martin responded, without a trace of enthusiasm. He twisted his pencil.

Jon came into view again, stepping backwards to peer back into the office Martin had taken.

“Are you alright, Martin?”

“Yeah I’m fine.” Jon didn’t move. He tapped his foot for a second.

“You know, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am terrible at reading people. But somehow, you are even worse at lying.”

“It’s fine, I just…” Martin sighed. “I’m just really tired, I’ll be fine.” Jon still didn’t move.

“Do you think you somehow became better at lying in the last three seconds?”

“Oh FUCK OFF, Jon!” Martin snapped, sitting bolt upright. “Maybe it’s none of your business, alright? Maybe I just don’t feel like talking about it! My whole life doesn’t have to revolve around you.” Martin stormed toward the door, leaving it up to Jon to move out of the way to avoid being burned. He continued storming up the stairs and out of the building. He wanted to be filled with burning rage for the fate he felt confined to, but all he felt was that ball of cold that continued to grow inside of him.

Maybe it was time for that forest fire.

* * *

Martin calmed down after a bit of a walk. He shouldn’t have snapped at Jon like that, he realized. He had only been trying to help, and well, Martin’s temper had been running a bit fast and hot since his transformation. Hopefully Jon would realize that and wouldn’t hold it against him.

The thought didn’t do much to cure Martin’s foul mood, though.

As his feet took him off the main road and into a wooded area, Martin reflected on his situation. Jon wouldn’t really be happy in a relationship with him, would he? Jon might insist that it was alright; that’s just who he was. But how long could they really continue a relationship without touch? Without that unique bonding experience of intimacy? Martin could imagine the look in Jon’s eyes as he insisted that everything was fine when it clearly was not. No, he decided; it wasn’t fair to Jon.

But now that he was a fair distance away from the road, it was time to take out his frustrations on this tree.

Martin took off his gloves and flung them to the forest floor. The sky was still dark and the air humid. A slight mist had started to gather, but a little moisture had never bothered him. He rubbed his hands together eagerly, feeling the warmth gather between them. Then he pressed them into the trunk of a tree, excited to see it burst into flame.

There was a sizzle and a crack. Martin removed his hands, and where they had been, the trunk was glowing red, and around it a burnt black. But there were no flames. He tried again in another spot, channeling all the emotion he could muster through his hands and into the trunk. The problem was, those emotions that had always been so focused and direct, were now mixed. When he removed his hands, the result was the same. Martin kicked the tree in frustration.

Martin leaned down, picked up a stick off the ground, and held it tight. After only a moment, a flame started on either side of his hand, and he flung the stick to the ground. But the moisture was gathering heavier in the air, and the flame was unable to spread very far. Martin wanted to yell in frustration. What was going on? A whole tree shouldn’t have been the slightest problem. Was he losing his power? And then Martin had a thought that made his heart skip a beat and sent a shiver of cold through his whole body.

Without his power, how would he protect Jon?

* * *

Martin stumbled through the forest, leaving a path of scorched material behind him, as his attempts to light something became more and more desperate. This _had_ to work, he kept thinking. Without Jon _and_ without his power, what was he? He’d never cared for the ritual of the Desolation. He knew it would leave a world that was hostile to Jon, anyways. He had done this - done _everything_ \- for Jon. Jon was his purpose. And at the thought of that being taken from him, he felt… empty. The heat and passion that had always filled him began to fade. He stumbled and braced himself against a tree as the cold moved in to fill the space left behind.

Martin’s vision blurred. He could hardly see in front of him. When had the fog gotten so thick?

He used the tree to slide to a sitting position on the forest floor. Something about his current thoughts rang a bell. Something Jon had said; something about avatars losing their purpose. But he was having trouble thinking straight, and the thick fog was making it harder to breathe.

* * *

Martin couldn’t have said how long he was sitting there. His eyes had stopped taking in any information some time ago. He simply drifted in some empty mental space. His attention was slowly brought back to his surroundings when he felt something cold against his cheek, turning his head, and then cold against his lips.

“You’re cold, Martin,” said a familiar voice, snapping him back to reality fairly quickly. “Well, not cold. You’re warm, but more like bad fever warm, and less…” Jon gave an amused scoff. “Well, fear god of destruction.” Martin blinked a few times, trying to clear his head.

“Jon… how did you find me?” Jon smirked.

“Do you of all people really need to ask how I know things?” Jon gripped Martin’s hand, and pulled Martin in to lean against him.

“No, I guess not,” Martin muttered, soaking in the closeness as they both clung tightly to each other. Martin felt the comfort of it fighting back against the cold in his chest. Jon’s mouth worked as he searched for the words to say.

“Martin I uh… I know I’m not exactly… the best at… well… _talking_ . About… feelings and such but…” he looked down at Martin who was leaning against his chest. “ _I don’t want to lose you_ ,” he said with a quiet fervor. “So maybe you could, you know, tell me what’s going on before you storm out into the woods and…” Lost for words, Jon gestured widely to the fog-laden landscape around them.

“I didn’t think it would be fair to you,” Martin whispered.

“Didn’t think what would be fair to me?”

“Talking to you. Making you decide.”

“Making me decide _what_ , Martin?” Martin sighed.

“Jon, we can’t be together.” Jon was very taken aback.

“I… what? Why on earth not?”

“With… the way that I am, we’ll never be able to touch. Never be close. Never… be able to have sex.. And it’s not fair to you to trap you in a relationship like that.” There was a pause, then Jon started to chuckle. It built until it was a hearty laugh.

“Martin, I don’t care about that at all.” Martin crumpled somewhat against his chest.

“See I knew you would say that,” he replied, “Insisting everything would be ok when it isn’t.”

“Martin, if anything it’s a relief!” Martin sat up and finally made eye contact.

“What?” Jon scratched the back of his head.

“You see uh… well, you know I was dating Georgie for a while, yes? Well during that time, we had several… misunderstandings. And after a lot of discussion, and maybe a bit of arguing, she finally sat me down, got online, and introduced me to the term asexual.” Jon took a deep breathe. “It means… well, uh… it’s the lack of sexual attraction. I don’t want sexual intimacy, Martin, and never have.” Martin felt a bloom of warmth spread through his chest and down his limbs.

“Really? I’ve… never heard the term before.” Jon smiled.

“Like I said, it really is a relief not having the pressure of sex looming over my head or the guilt that I’m keeping my partner from it.” Jon drew Martin into a tight embrace. “I won’t lie and say that I won’t miss holding you like this, but maybe occasionally, hm? I’m not leaving you.”

Martin’s tears dried almost before they could form, as he felt heat spread once again through his body. The passion that he felt for this man spread down through his fingers and toes and made them tingle.

“Um. Martin? Careful, ow, OW!” Jon let go, and scrambled back several feet from Martin.

“Jon! I’m sorry! Are you ok?” Martin exclaimed. Jon only smiled and laughed.

“Just fine. Glad to have you back.”

The two of them headed back to the institute. The fog had lifted, and the air was clear and light. As they walked, the sun managed to find a tiny break in the clouds, and Martin looked up at it. He thought again of Jon, and felt the passion he felt for him tingle on his skin.

Maybe anger wasn’t the only emotion he could use to fuel his fire.

“By the way, Martin, the issue of intimacy has never come up before now. What made you think of it so suddenly?” Martin tilted his head in thought.

“You know,” he said contemplatively, “I don’t think I could say.”


End file.
